Smoke
by NAVINTAGEdeactivated
Summary: Smoking calms his nerves, it helps him forget those feelings. Miles Edgeworths battle to gain a deeper understanding of himself, his career, and his rival. PWxME slash
1. Disclaimer

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A BOY LOVE / BL / YAOI / ETC. FICTION!

I intend on updating EVERY FRIDAY! So if this tickles your fancy please check back!

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(also: most of these characters don't belong to me they belong to capcom, the only characters I claim are Lynn, and other small non-canon characters)

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Hello there, this is New Age Vintage with that annoying pre-story warning.

This fan fiction will begin with the rating of T, for innuendo, substance abuse (smoking and drinking), and for bad words! So if you don't want to read a story with those things please turn away.

The main pairing in this story is Miles Edgeworth paired with Phoenix Wright. However, before we get to the main pairing Edgeworth will have relations with a minor character(s) (who represent an idea and do not have large amounts of appearances in this document.)

I appreciate all feedback, but flames aren't feedback, there angry words, if you feel you need to yell at someone over the internet for something you chose to read, please see a councilor.

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SHOUT OUTS!~ I would like to thank my boyfriend (who had to read through this pile of gay) who selflessly read through these chapters and fixed any errors he found. If your interested in any of his work you can find him on deviant art. ( remove spaces): foxby . Deviantart . Com

I would also like to thank the lovely yashikoru (who can also be found on deviant art) for letting my use her character Eryn

I appreciate you taking your time to read this! Please comment if you like it (or don't!)


	2. Game Start

_**A/N**: Edgeworths POV_

* * *

The day started normally. I arose at 6:30 am and stumbled to the bathroom to wash my face. The cold water froze away the sleep and I became a little more alert. I shuffled to the kitchen and turned on the espresso machine. With a trickle it began to work its magic and I lounged in a chair waiting for that dark cup of joe to brew. I sipped my coffee and contemplated today's trial. The defense had been injured in a suspicious accident yesterday and the defendant was clamoring to find a new attorney. I prayed it was Wright. The case was relatively straight forward. The accused was very possibly innocent, but with a weak defense, I could put him away for life; but where was the fun in that? Court is meant to be a well-choreographed fight between the defense and the prosecution, but the attorney who started was weak and easily crushed. Yes, a win was a good thing, but where was the dignity in beating a weakling? Wright would be a nice change.

I finished the cup of my morning caffeine and prepared for my day. I brushed my teeth, ran a comb through my hair, and pulled on one of my favored suits. I smirked into the mirror; it was empowering knowing people cringed at the thought of you—lonely, but empowering. I straightened my cravat, grabbed my keys from the dresser, shut off the lights, and headed for the door. It was odd not saying goodbye to Pess in the morning, but he was still in Europe at the moment and Franziska was watching him until I had time to retrieve him.

* * *

The drive to the office was relaxing; the roads were relatively free of traffic and the two cigarettes probably helped to soothe my nerves as well. I crushed the second butt into my ash tray as I pulled into the prosecutors' office parking garage. It was only a little past 8 am and I planned on reviewing my entire case before court.

I walked through into the lobby and tuned to face the stairs. I grimaced. Smoking and climbing hundreds of stairs were not a good combo but there's no way I was going to get in the godforsaken elevator. I started my trek, which seemed to grow quicker each day. I reached my office by 8:30 and settled in to review my case file. I opened my case organizer and read through my data and evidence, this trial was too easy, but hopefully it would get a little more interesting…

The double doors to my office flew open and I glared at the detective who was racing toward my desk. He was gasping for breath and looked as if he ran all the way here from the police department.

"Mr. Edgeworth! Sir, as soon as I heard the news… I ran all the way here from the police department!" (I'd hit the nail right on the head.) "I found out who the… new defense is today!" He stopped to breathe and I could feel myself getting irritated.

"Spit it out, Detective!" Sometimes I couldn't stand Gumshoe. He apologized multiple times before continuing.

"The defendant hired…" I withheld the urge to reach over my desk and strangle him, "some defense attorney… I've never heard of." My heart dropped. Great-- another inexperienced buffoon to deal with in court. I had had enough and was about to send Gumshoe out of my office to go do something important, like getting me some tea… "But her name sounds so familiar, Lynn Ying…" I glared at him, letting him know I could care less.

* * *

I arrived at the court house at 9:45 and lingered outside for a pre-victory smoke. I lit the cigarette and inhaled the soothing smoke. A young Asian woman strutted up to the door of the court house, then plopped (it didn't deserve to be called sitting) onto a bench. She dug through the pockets of her long, pale purple coat. I'm not sure why I was so

enraptured by this behavior, but it was something to watch as I finished my cigarette. She pulled out a pack of cheap cigarettes and a match book. I dropped my spent cigarette onto the steps and crushed it beneath my shoe. A young prosecutor (whose name I think was Eryn) ran up.

"Lynn! You better not be a disgrace in court today! And stop smoking those!" The prosecutor's voice was childish but strong. Lynn (so this purple coated women was my opponent) smirked and lightly commented.

"Stop being such a stick in the mud, and thank you for your concern, but if I didn't smoke, what else would I have for breakfast?" With this, she crushed the butt of her cigarette and walked into the courthouse. The young prosecutor walked away in a huff, muttering about how she just wanted to wish her luck. I glanced at my watch: 9:55 am, time to head inside and see if this Ms. Ying was worth the court's time.

* * *

The battle began. I made my opening statement and called my first witness of the day. Ying tore through Gumshoe like cheap tissue paper. Maybe this would be more interesting then I had speculated. She met my eyes, smirked, and turned back to Gumshoe. The game had started.

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_**A/N**: reviews and critiques are loved and I will try to respond!_


	3. Derek?

A/N: I would like to show lots of thanks to the lovely foxby for being my BETA!

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"We will continue the trial tomorrow at 10 am." The voice of the judge rang in my ears. It was a long trial, a welcome workout for my mind, even if he wasn't across the court from me. I bowed my head to my podium and began to neatly clear away information used during the case. Across the room, a disgruntled-looking Lynn Ying. She was quickly piling paperwork into a briefcase. I grabbed my case file and headed out of the room. So far, today had been relatively decent. But, of course, Gumshoe ran up to me.

"SIR!!! I remember where I've met her before!" I flinched away from the harsh sound and quickly cursed him under my breath.

"Remember whom, detective?" I really didn't want to know, but he was begging for me to indulge his conversation.

"The prosecutor, Lynn Ying! She used to be a detective at the precinct." I mentally noted how unimportant this was and I began to walk away. Gumshoe looked hurt, but I continued toward the doors pulling a pack of vanilla cigarettes out of a pocket. I always keep two packs on me, menthol for a normal smoke, and vanilla for when I feel I deserve it. I run out of vanilla rather quickly. I pause to light up and take in the first breath. It was as if some godly figure had devised a way to combine a simple but elegant vanilla bean ice cream with the rich, deep flavor of tobacco. I was caught up in the combination when a hand firmly placed itself on my shoulder. Quickly I turned, surprised, to see Ms. Ying standing next to me, an unlit Marlboro hanging from her lips.

"Hey, can I borrow your light?" I wordlessly handed her my Zippo and she took it. "Good fight in court today," was her only comment as she took a drag. She shouldered off her jacket and revealed a fitted red dress with a black collar. I noted it was possible to look like a whore and a professional at the same time without that profession being a whore. I was yanked back into the real world by her light conversation. "So you smoke the girly kind?" A grin was plastered across her face as she indicated my choice of tobacco. "I'm just yanking your cravat, Edgey-Boy. I guess what they say about you being a stick-in-the-mud was true." I felt myself frowning and preparing to make a rude comment. "Well, thanks for the light! Also, tell Derek I said hi." She walked away, smoke trailing behind her.

"How the BLOODY HELL does she know about him?" My brows knitted as I pondered how this stranger knew about the sap I was dating at the time. It's not like I announce, "HEY, guess what? I'm gay and I go through partners like Maya goes through Wright's money!" I fumed, but couldn't help chuckle at my own joke as I made my way to my car.

* * *

I arrived at my apartment half an hour and four menthol cigarettes later. I slammed the car door behind me and stalked to the front door angrily, grumbling the entire way. The door was open and I walked in; Derek was at the kitchen table sorting through some sort of paperwork. He looked up and smiled. I had to admit, the smile combined with his sandy blond hair helped relieve some of my stress. We may not have been meant for each other personality-wise, but I never thought that was what this relationship was for. I made my way over to the table and sat next to him. I gently kissed him moving my lips to his neck. He stretched out and pulled away.

"How was the trial?" I had forgotten about that godforsaken defense attorney until his mention of my day in court. I felt my face contort with frustration.

"I haven't met the defense before, but she managed to make the trial worthwhile. We're continuing tomorrow." He watched my lips move, but I could never be sure if he was listening. "She seemed to know you." At this, his eyebrows raised. "I believe her name was Lynn Ying." My voice trailed off on her name. His mouth turned down as he thought.

"Lynn… Is she Asian with black hair and wire glasses?" I nodded and he continued. "She's a regular at the bar. Her normal order is an Arizona sunrise. She tends to complain about some chick named Eryn, I don't know, there's some sort of rivalry going on there." He stopped and bit his pointer finger nail. It made me uncomfortable, and I shifted in my seat. "Why, what did she say?" I returned my gaze from his lips to his eyes.

"I just found it odd that she knew you. She said to give you her greetings." He looked at me quizzically and leaned closer.

"Hmm… I really don't see how something so trivial matters. It's not like anyone would be surprised about your 'preferences.'" I went to comment on how my colleagues had no need to know about my personal life, but his lips cut me off. He moved closer and we broke for air. My hands rested on the center of his back and we moved to the bedroom.

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We lay there in the aftermath, a satisfied smirk played across his lips and he moved closer. I kissed him and moved to get up. After all, it was only three in the afternoon. He reached for my waist as I moved to stand. A childish expression of disappointment settled onto his face. I leaned toward him; he really was irresistible at times (in bed at least, conversation left something to be desired). "I have paperwork to do, and you're covering Angel's shift tonight, remember?" He looked cross, but let me get up and followed suit. I put on a casual pair of slacks and off-white button-up shirt. I settled in to finish some paperwork, and actually got work done for once.

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A/N: Please comment and review! But seriously, I swear Phoenix is going to show up soon!


	4. The 'Need To Talk'

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter! I was going to make the next chapter part of this one, but it didn't flow as nicely as it does as 2 chapter! (and don't worry, next chapter is already longer than this!)(oh and updated alittle early (late thursday!) but you don't mind, do you?)

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The next day in court was a long one. My new competition's yells filled the air as she tore through witnesses and evidence. Gumshoe even cried; I was beginning to wonder if she had a soul. The judge called for another recess and I swiftly walked toward the door craving nicotine.

I pulled out the new pack I had bought this morning. I lit up and reviewed the trial. It was drawing to an end, but the defendant was definitely innocent. If I fought with all I had I could win. I could win, and send an innocent seventeen-year-old boy to jail for life… God damn this emotion called guilt. I crushed the nub of my cigarette and walked back to the court to face the final part of the case.

* * *

I lost the case. I was used to it by now. But I wasn't sad about it. I remember the days when losses confused me and even drove out of the country, away from my one friend. I sighed as the verdict was handed down. The defendant smiled, cried, and ran to Lynn. I couldn't hear them, but it was the same conversation any time there was a not guilty verdict ("I knew you could do it!" or "I told you I was innocent!"). I packed my things and left for the office.

On the drive, my mind wandered to my first loss, how it had perplexed me and angered me. How had I had been beaten by a rookie defense attorney? I scoffed at these memories. I was so blind back then. Every victory Phoenix celebrated was putting me deeper into my proverbial grave. I found myself smiling, but couldn't help it. Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death? More like Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth is a sissy who can't deal with his feelings so he ran off to Europe. I snickered and pulled into the Prosecutors' Office parking garage. It would be another long day at work.

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When I got home, Derek wasn't there. I stood in the doorway; my apartment always felt so empty when it was just me. My mind wandered to Pess. I set my briefcase on my desk and sat down. There was a note written in Derek's large scrawling handwriting:

Miles,

Had to work a second shift today, Angel's been skipping out on her shift lately. Your sister called today, said something about a dog…

We need to talk…

And there it was, the infamous "we need to talk" (and something told me it wasn't about Pess), the end of all relationships. I'd had my suspicions for a while. I folded the note and tucked it into the bottom right-hand drawer of the desk, next to all the notes of that sort. The drawer was beginning to fill; God, I need a reality check.

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I took my time meticulously filling out paper work into all hours of the night. I silently poured my heart into every letter. Finally, I glanced at the clock, still nervous for Derek to get back. It was 2 in the morning. Thank God I didn't have a case…

It doesn't matter how many relationships I begin and end, I will always be on edge about it. Yes, that's right, the big, bad demon prosecutor is afraid of losing someone, even if they were just a one-night-stand-turned-relationship. But that's something I blame von Karma for…

My paperwork was done, and my nerves where fried. It was 3 am and I still hadn't even thought of sleep. I filed my papers away, the only sound my breathing. I hated an empty house, it reminded me of the von Karma manor. Those memories will forever haunt me…

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A/N: Oh how angsty!~ Next chapter is going to ether be a flashback. I know this chapters writing was alittle shaky, sorry.


	5. Memories

A/N: sorry I didn't update earlier today, I was sleeping. This chapter gets a little rant-ish at one point, If it gets confusing I was trying to add to the aspect of his childhood being a maze of uncertian hells.

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Life in the von Karma manner was a boot camp of sorts. Up until I began high school, the only time I left the mansion was to go to court, or to the prison, where I would witness the proper way to prosecute or break a witness. Franziska was always with me on these excursions, but while at the house (I dare not call it a home), she was often in another room being tutored in something or other. I had my own set of teachers as well: at least one for every subject, and three for legal matters. But von Karma was the only teacher who mattered. The punishment for not knowing his lessons was worse than physical violence. It was fear, a deep-rooted fear that crammed into your heart and made your pulse race at any moving shadow, it was the knowing that you had disappointed him.

My life was full of hate and studies until the fall I began high school. I don't think I will ever know what made von Karma give up on me, but God, I was grateful. Franziska was devouring law books like a wood chipper, and I was soon thrown on the backburner. I kept up in my studies, I passed all my tests, I astounded anyone who even dared doubt my skills, but I was still put on the backburner. One day I was given possibly the best news of my life. I was to be sent to a boarding school to finish my education. A private English all-boys boarding school. Emotions wrapped around my brain. I remember walking the halls of that manor the last time before being sent off, and those thoughts will always be prominent in my mind, those clear-cuts emotions, like scars in my memories.

Jealousy: Why did SHE get to stay, what had I done that was causing me to be tossed away (even though I was still a dog on a leash)? She was young, and a GIRL, but she was still better than me! Being a perfect prosecutor was all I had left. I had no real family, I had no other dreams. I wanted to be the best, and to be the best you must be taught by the best. But my mentor, the one who took me in after my father's murder, threw me out with the trash, all because he was focusing on his precious daughter!

Anger: I wasn't good enough for him! Who did he think I was, my father? My dumb father who got killed in a COURT HOUSE. I wasn't weak. I could prove myself. I am better than they think I am and I know it. I will go to that shitty boarding school and become a better lawyer than anyone, then they will see who Miles Edgeworth really is…

Guilt: Oh God, I'm leaving her all alone in that house. I know we weren't supposed to be close, but I still love her as a sister. And she's alone with that man she calls 'Papa.' Why should I get to escape and not her? She may have the potential for being the best, but at what price? What will I not be able to save her from? I can never save anyone, not my father, not my sister, not myself. And here I am, running off to a boarding school, to a sanctuary and leaving her.

Joy: I was leaving. I was going to be free. I could have friends, I could have FUN! Those two forbidden words would soon be mine. Finally, I could become my own person. I didn't have to breathe, sleep, and eat law anymore. This stale manor would be gone by morning and I could talk. I wouldn't have to wait to be addressed, I wouldn't have to read only law texts, I would be able to delve into aspects of life I've only dreamed about. Things I've only seen when sneaking a look at a magazine or newspaper. This pressure is finally off of my chest and I can breathe. The air tastes ripe with freedom.

And finally the most overwhelming feeling that racked my brain.

FEAR: What if I'm not good enough? What if he changes his mind? What if they all HATE me? What if I fail? Can I learn in an actual classroom? What happens after I graduate? What if they make fun of me? Why and I being such a baby over it, oh God they're going to hate me and call me names. I will never fit in. Even I know I'm not normal. What if the uniform makes me look scrawny and weak? Will they beat me up? What happens if they beat me up? I don't know anyone, I never will, I'll always be afraid. Afraid of losing more people. I don't know what will happen…

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All of those feelings ravaged my poor teenage mind. I was so confused and dazed at the aspect of my escape and I couldn't cope. I don't remember what my first feelings on the subject were, but they were the most I had felt in that house besides pain. I could tell my mind was slipping. All these feelings silently played on my features.

I gazed at the clock; confusing flashbacks had officially eaten an hour of my time. And he still wasn't home…

* * *

I sat there, in silence with my head propped up in my hands. It was at least five in the morning, and I could feel sleep slowly creeping up on me. All of the same stereotypical worries plagued my thoughts. He cheated. He isn't coming back. Something happened. He's dead. I was pathetic, a deprived little boy turned into a clingy, black-hearted bastard.

I pushed out my chair and stood, disgusted. I knew I had spent hours worrying about a guy who couldn't care less, a guy who I really didn't like all that much. But the truth took shelter in the back of my mind. I could hear the real fears whispering. You don't want to be alone, you're just filling the hole in your heart, it's because you don't think you can have the person you want. But I couldn't let something like that plague me. I had to be strong, even if it meant being weak a different way.

I had been pacing, unconsciously walking the room with my hands in my pockets and a grimace on my face. I look at the desk clock once more, 6am. Finally, I give up.

I go through the routine of changing, brushing my teeth, and getting into bed. In the dark, the stucco on my ceiling makes patterns. The shadows overlap and form pictures. I see a dog, an oni, a face. I squint at the face and make it the one I want to see. My lips twitch into a smile, and I think about ruining my ceiling and using a marker to outline that face. I will never admit it out loud, but above me was the face I want to see every night before I go to sleep. Finally I fall asleep, with that stupid smile on my face

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A/N: Hmm I wonder who's face it is.... I BET ITS PESS. DERP DERP (not realy)


	6. Welcome Back

I woke up late. The clock read noon. My hands rubbed my eyes and I sat up. I re-checked the clock to make sure I wasn't mistaken. I hadn't slept in this long for a while—not since I had decided 'killing myself' was a good idea. I stretched, cracked my neck, cracked my knuckles and stood. I lazily ran a hand through my hair and crossed to the window. Pulling aside the curtains, I noted it was most likely going to rain, which made it good weather for tea.

I shuffled to my kitchen and stared at my coffee maker. I detested coffee, but it woke me up. I moved to start the satanic machine, then noted I had nothing to do today and needed no reason to be awake. I smiled; a free day was a rare thing. I decided on a nice herbal tea I had purchased about a week ago. It was bitter, but didn't have too much of a kick to it: a good morning blend. I put a kettle of water on to boil and took a seat at the breakfast nook. Having a breakfast nook also made me smile. I don't know why; it's just a nice little niche to enjoy a cup of tea and contemplate life. I also think it might be the word "nook." I liked the simple but elegant feel of the word. Not that I would tell anyone such a useless fact about myself.

I stared at the small table. Yesterday's newspaper, an ash tray, half of a pack of menthol cigarettes, and a Zippo. I contemplated lighting a cigarette but decided against it. I may like the taste, but did not want anything to taint the bliss that is tea.

The kettle whistled and I prepared a cup of tea. I chose a cup from my set of off-white china with a gold etching and small mauve flowers. I had three sets of china for my home and one for the office. I sipped the tea and took in its aroma. I took another sip and let out a sigh. Halfway through my second cup, the doorbell rang.

"Damn it to hell." I set down the cup and went toward the door. I would have assumed it would be Derek, but considering he had been living here for the last month and had a key, it didn't make sense. I reached to open the door, not bothering to check whom it was first. I regretted that right away. I pulled the door in and stepped back.

My eyes widened, I was suddenly aware I was just wearing a pair of pink… I mean RED, wine RED pajama pants. I felt my mouth contort into a grimace and I greeted my guest.

"Hello, Wright. May I ask why you are on my doorstep?" I slathered my voice in hatred, trying to disguise my utter surprise. He looked flustered, and I automatically knew why.

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I never told him I was back in town; actually, the only people who knew I was back where the Prosecutors' Office and the Police Department. Derek never knew I was gone. He just knew I spent some time in Europe, but knew nothing of why I left and that I've left before.

I purposely hid my return for a few reasons, but mostly because I didn't want to deal with all the crazy happenings that tend to take place when Wright was around. I also didn't want to deal with the feelings of when Wright was around, but that was something I don't want to think about. Deep down, I wanted to let him know of my return, but I wish our reunion was in court. I was so much better dealing with things in court.

The incident with Iris and the murder of Misty Fey had ended about four months ago. After my brief return, I told everyone I was returning to Europe again. That was not a lie, but I never mentioned how long I would be gone. I had finished up my research at an office in France and did not have another prospect lined up yet. I decided (I admit rather ignorantly) to come back to America. I have been back for two months. I met Derek about a week after returning. I settled into my old routine rather quickly; cases helped to keep my mind off of things. I, however, avoided high-profile cases to try and stay out of the media's grasp. I apparently didn't do a good enough job…

* * *

"What the hell?" It wasn't much of a question, but it was enough to let me know he was upset. My eyes widened; I knew he would be upset. I hadn't even let him know I was in the area. "You leave again, I can't blame you. I mean, why would you want to stay where your FRIENDS are? Because you know, nobody gives a shit about the poor little demon prosecutor, and his quest for the TRUTH." His voice was riddled with sarcasm, something I was not expecting. "But for someone who wanted the truth so goddamned badly, you sure don't share it all that well." He held out a newspaper and looked me square in the eye. I took it, dumbfounded. My mind raced; I had no clue he would be so affected by me. I mentally kicked myself.

He continued, but he seemed like he was reasoning with himself. "You rushed here for one trial, to help me. Then you ran away again. I figured you were gone for good. But no, I put that behind me. I buried Miles Edgeworth again, then yet again." He briefly met my eyes for the end of the sentence, took in a breath, and turned away. I didn't know if I should say something or not. Genius prosecutor: yes. Social expert: no. Not like I had time to make a decision. He started walking away. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and watched him go. He stopped, turned, his face clearly showed his sorrow, but his eyes did not. His gaze was strong and angry. "I shouldn't have to find out you're back from a fucking newspaper." He kept walking and I just watched him leave.

I leaned against the doorframe and slumped into a sitting position. I held up the newspaper and looked at the front page. In a section dedicated to a preview of the issue, there was a headline detailing my recent loss in court. I turned to that page and previewed the article. It was very brief, but enough to fuel the slur of words Phoenix hurled at me. In brief, it stated that this was my first loss in court after my return 2 months ago.

I heard the sound of someone approaching. I opened my eyes and dared myself to look up, but I couldn't. I just looked at the floor, then my feet. The person knelt beside me and I finally looked him in the face. It wasn't who I wanted it to be. It wasn't who I thought it could be. Why couldn't it be?

Derek looked me in the eye and tilted his head to the side. "Does this have to do with the angry guy on the bike?" I became aware that my face was red and I was trembling. I shook of my troubled look and brought my expression into a scowl then stood. I was about to make a comment in my defense but couldn't find any believable words. I walked back into the house. Derek waited a moment, closed the door, and followed. I moved to the breakfast nook and sat. I looked at the cup of tea on the table. It was room temperature now. I pushed it aside and reached for the pack of cigarettes and lighter. I lit one up and inhaled deeply. The smoke slithered into my lungs and crawled into my mind. I held the breath, and then released. A thin waft of smoke curled into the air. I watched it for a second; the tendrils performed flips and turns, then faded into the air. Derek had taken a seat across from me.

He rested his head on his hands and slouched in his seat. Horrible posture—something I would usually call him on. He was testing how out of it I was. I met his eyes and took another drag. We sat in silence. His horrible posture irked me, but I refused to say anything. Finally he broke the silence.

"So, yeah. We need to talk" I smiled a bit; already saw this coming from a mile away. "You know as well as I know that this isn't going to wor-" I already knew what he was about to say, and I could tell he was having second thoughts after seeing the normally cool, calm, and collected Miles Edgeworth reduced to a blurry-eyed weakling. I saved him the trouble and cut him off.

"It's not working." I paused a second and let it sink it. "We both know it." Another pause. "So, want help packing your stuff, or do you still need to search for a new residence?" I was much more composed now; I have gotten over myself. He asked me to help him pack a few things.


	7. Blank

A/N: I am so sorry for not updating D: I got behind in a few classes and my drama troupe is performing soon! I will try to update more often.

* * *

My alarm went off; one beep, another, then yet another. I moved to stop the obnoxious sound, but when I tried to sit up there was a weight on my chest. The object shifted its weight, then stood up. I smiled. It was nice to have Pess back in the house. She had been back with me for about a week—I had taken a trip to pick her up the day after Derek left. I brought a hand to the back of her head and lightly scratched. Pess took this as an invitation to sit back down and continue to imprison me. I fell back onto to bed and looked at the ceiling. I lay there for a few moments before Pess deemed me boring and got up.

I got up and dressed, and the day continued normally. I was heading an investigation and preparing my case. The past week had been droll and uneventful. I won two cases and successfully pushed emotions out of my mind. I was a blank slate, one that could not be written on. Only necessary thoughts went through my mind: investigations and breathing.

* * *

The time ticked past slowly as I sat in my office. A mountain of paperwork had devoured my desk top. I had taken on as much work as possible, sitting quietly and moving my pen in short, accurate motions. Blank forms became full, as did my mind. Full of murder and evidence and lies. Full of testimony of other people's lives.

It was getting late, and I was finishing up my third cup of tea. The day was uneventful; people were beginning to get that idea I wanted to talk less than usual. I glanced at the clock—it was already seven pm. I had yet to eat dinner, and began sorting paperwork to be put away and turned in.

All my paperwork was properly sorted, and I took my leave. The evening air hit me like a wall; the Prosecutors' Office was kept at a warm, comfortable temperature, but the outside air quickly chilled my face and hands. I continued my trek towards the parking garage.

Upon reaching my car I took my keys and pack of cigarettes out of my pocket. I opened the door and lit a cigarette. I took in the smoke and let it play with my senses. The thick taste coated my tongue and blurred my mind for a moment. I held the breath and let the smoke tickle my lungs for another second, then let go. The curling smoke drifted into the air and mixed with the already-present pollution. I got into my car and left, finishing the cigarette before reaching home.

I spent a few hours sorting through files for the next day's case, then retired for the night. Pess was at my heels, whining for me to play. But I was just so tired. So tired…


	8. Just Feel

A/N: Hey guys, sorry for my shitty uploading pattern and such, I'm still working on the story I just have been wicked busy ); This chapter has yet to be corrected for spelling and grammer by my BETA (who is on vacation untill next monday) BUT I did my best to read over it. I swear Phoenix is going to be in the story soon and maybe Edgey will get alittle less... edgy...

also, reviews and comments keep me willing to write : D *hint hint*

EDIT: Here be the BETA'ed version :D

* * *

A grin flashed across my face as the verdict was read. Guilty. It was always a nice word to hear, another villain sentenced, another war won. My opponent had been that overzealous defense attorney again. She bit her lip and knotted her eyebrows when the judge announced the verdict. It was good to win. I sorted my things and prepared to leave. A glance toward the defense showed Lynn comforting her client. I had no remorse; he was most certainly guilty. I walked toward the door, head held high. I was slowly getting through Derek leaving and Phoenix's outburst, but they still lingered on the outskirts of thought, waiting to be delved into.

I made my way to my car and drove. I pulled into the driveway and sat in my car for a moment, finishing my cigarette and thinking. I didn't know what to do about Phoenix. Should I call him, should I ignore it, should I pretend it never happened? I was horrible when it came to talking or showing feelings… And it showed.

I sat in silence for another moment and contemplated lighting another cigarette. I decided against it and made my way inside. I set my briefcase on my desk and sat in a chair, then surveyed the room; Pesu was sleeping on the couch, and the clock was steadily ticking along with the seconds. I relaxed my shoulders and turned to the desk. My mind was set on not doing paperwork, I was tired and just wanted to relax, but duty called. I flipped open my briefcase and took out a few files. I begin sifting through the papers and filling out the appropriate sections. I was soon lost in the world of law and order.

* * *

By the time I was caught up with all of my paperwork, it was five thirty. Pess had been sitting by my feet for the past hour and begging for attention. I gently ruffled the fur on the back of her neck and stood. She repeated my actions and looked up and me. I felt myself grin and I kneeled to her level. She instantly was on her back wanting her stomach scratched. I obliged and was rewarded with much tail wagging and face licking.

I sat on the floor with her for another hour; I enjoyed the company. Talking to her was the best I could do. People where just so… awkward. My mind wandered to things I would rather keep under wraps. An image of Phoenix popped into my mind. His face was the same as the last time I saw him. It was hurt and distant, like he was pondering something. I lightly bit my lip. I felt like scum. His words raced through my mind again. I didn't know what to do about it—I just couldn't dispose of these unnecessary feelings.

I gave Pess one last pat on the stomach and got up. I felt light headed and needed a cigarette. What a horrible feeling, needing something just to clear your head. I scoffed at my dependence and took a seat in the kitchen. I brought the lighter to the end of my cigarette and inhaled. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head. The images and thoughts slowly eased away, and I released my held breath.

My shoulders slumped, and I held my head in my hands. What was I doing? But more importantly, why? I was destroying myself up over him, because he made me feel. Feel what? Human, alive, sane, alive. Just feel.

Sure, I had felt before him, but it wasn't the same. I crushed the smoldering cigarette into the ashtray on the table and got up. I promptly sat back down. What the hell was I supposed to do?


End file.
